


my heart is yours, what more can I say?

by roseweasley



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 04:37:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseweasley/pseuds/roseweasley
Summary: Jaime x Brienne season 8 reunion! Very fluffy.





	my heart is yours, what more can I say?

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to tumblr as a prize for Ash's Top Ten (a game where people guessed by top ten favorite ASOIAF characters). This one is for @daeneris !

It was cold in the North, that much was a given. The Sapphire Isle was much more temperate, and she found herself missing her father. She knew that he would be proud of her, though she had not had a raven from him in some time. They had much larger, more looming concerns than emotional frivolities.

 

 _He_ came to her head unbidden. Sometimes, when she was alone, she’d imagine what it would be like to be with him. It was innocent, for the most part. Though she would never be a proper lady, the idea of his touch stirred something in her she had thought died with Renly.

 

She laid a hand on the pommel of her sword, grounding herself to the here and now. There were _far_ more important things to worry about. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get that golden man out of her head.

 

Shouts echoed from the training yard, and she smiled as she watched Pod face off with Arya. They weren’t well matched—Arya, by the grace of the Seven, had become _entirely_ too proficient at the sword for a lady. Who was she to judge? She was too proficient for a lady.

 

“They make a good pair.” _No._ It couldn’t be. “You taught him well.” If she was a different person she might’ve cried, might’ve turned round and thrown her arms around him, but she was Brienne of Tarth, _Brienne the Beauty_ , and she would _never_ forget that.

 

“They do.” She let out a deep sigh through her nose, keeping her self-control in check. “Thank you.”

 

“Look at me.”

 

 _No. If I do, you might be a figment of my imagination. This is too sweet a dream, and I do not want to rouse myself to find it all shattered._ She bit her lip, hand flexing around her sword. _I am Brienne the Beauty,_ she thought, _and I do not have the power to move beautiful men._

“ _Brienne.”_ He gripped her shoulder with his good hand. “I came all this way for you, and you aren’t even going to _look at me_?”

 

Now she _knew_ it was a dream. Jaime Lannister ride North for her? _Fuck honor!_ She had said. Perhaps that had been enough. She sighed once more and turned to face him, hoping against hope that he was real. Tangible. _There._

 

And Gods, was she rewarded. The look on his face made her heart beat out of her chest, she was sure he’d be able to hear it. “Ser Jaime,” though she was no lady, she never forgot her courtesies. She had once heard Sansa say courtesies were a woman’s armor, if that was true Brienne would be protected doubly. “Your hair has grown longer.”

 

He quirked his head at that. “ _That’s_ what you say to me?” His eyes darkened, and even in the dim light she noticed the shift of his face. Something borne from hunger, need, _want._ It was foreign to her, though she knew it would be reflected on her own face.

 

“I—“ Brienne fumbled with her words. “What do you want me to say? I thought I made myself clear in King’s Landing.”

 

The wind was picking up. Snow was flurrying around the yard—she could feel it coat her back—but she couldn’t bring herself to care. _I’ll freeze to death. I’ll die happy, if this is truly Jaime Lannister._ Such thoughts shamed her. She’d worked so to avoid them.

 

“You did,” he flexed his good hand. “Which is why I rode through the bloody snows to get here. I rode day and night.”

 

His words rang true. They had only been back at Winterfell for a night. “Why?”

 

“You don’t know?” Jaime shook his head. “For you. I thought that was obvious.”

 

“ _Why?_ ”

 

“Brienne.” There was a warning in his tone, something feral and _lionlike._ It made her skin prickle. “You truly don’t know?”

 

“Know _what_? That our army could use you?”

 

“I _need_ you, Brienne!” He gripped her arm with his good hand, his other coming to rest on her shoulder. “If what the boy said was true… if we really are facing… _that,_ I had to tell you.”

 

She licked her lips, searching for an appropriate response. “I—“

 

“Gods.” He rolled his eyes. “Would I have left Cersei? Would I have rode here through _hellish_ weather, if I didn’t mean it?”

 

“I suppose not.” Brienne was still skeptical. “What do you want from me?”

 

“Everything.” He whispered, stepping closer to her. “But nothing dishonorable. Fuck honor, but I do not mean to fuck _your_ honor. I mean to fuck _you—_ “

 

“Ser—“

 

“If we are to do this properly, you’ll have to start calling me Jaime.”

 

“Jaime…” They were so close she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. Everything about him was gold. “Are you sure?”

 

He barked out a laugh at that. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

 

She nodded one, and then once more. “Okay.”

 

“Okay.” He brushed his lips against hers, and she didn’t think she had ever felt so warm in her life. “But—“

 

Jaime let out an impatient huff at that. “Just kiss me.” And she did.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! xx Ash


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